Depraved Valentine (St. Valentines)

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

CHARLI

The flashing lights of the club pulse like a heartbeat, and the music—heavy, thumping—fills the air with a kind of energy that makes me feel alive in ways I can’t help but love.

I glance over at Jake. He’s handsome, easy-going, laughs too loud, says all the right things. The kind of guy who’s fun to be around but doesn’t really make you think too hard. At least, that was the appeal. At least, I thought that’s what I wanted.

But my mind keeps drifting back to him.

Rafe .

I should’ve stayed home with him. Should’ve stayed on the couch, tangled in each other, let things unfold naturally. I shouldn’t have gotten dressed up, should’ve refused when the urge to make someone bleed arose. But I did. I let it lead me out of the comfort of Rafe and into this chaos.

I let myself forget.

But I didn’t. Not really.

I think about the way Rafe smiled at me when I looked at him, the way my heart still skips a beat when I see him, even after all this time. He was the one..

And I… I stayed in the ruins. Waiting. Hoping.

But now? Tonight, in this dimly lit club, there’s no waiting. There’s no hope. There’s only what’s in front of me and the fun I’m going to have.

Jake smiles at me from across the table. He’s holding a drink, a casual kind of grin on his face, like he’s completely unaware of what’s happening behind my eyes. He’s not really here. Not in the way Rafe was. I should care. I should be trying to make small talk, keep up the illusion that this night is going how it’s supposed to. That I’m enjoying it.

Instead, my fingers brushed against the small syringe I had slipped into my bag earlier. The one I’ve been saving for a moment like this. For someone like Jake.

He leans closer, and I can smell the cheap cologne on his skin. "You wanna get out of here? Maybe we could head back to your place?" he asks, his voice barely audible over the music.

I nod before I can even stop myself. "Yeah, let’s go."

The night feels like a blur: the drive to my apartment, the way he keeps talking about nothing important as he follows me into the elevator, the stupid, meaningless chatter that makes my skin crawl. He doesn’t notice. Of course, he doesn’t. He’s too busy making jokes, thinking I’m playing hard to get, when in reality, I just don’t care anymore. I don’t care about him. I don’t care about anyone except the version of Rafe who’s stuck in my head.

I get the door open and motion for him to follow me inside. It’s dark—intentionally. I want the shadows to swallow me whole.

"Make yourself at home," I say, my voice a little too cool, a little too detached. He shrugs and tosses his jacket onto the couch, stepping into the kitchen without asking.

I walk over to the counter and pull the small syringe out from the inside pocket of my bag, carefully removing the cap. The liquid inside glints in the low light. It’s not much—just a few drops. Enough to make him dizzy, enough to make him think it’s just a side effect of drinking too much. He won’t know the difference until it’s too late.

I empty it into his glass when his back is turned. It’s seamless. He won’t even notice.

"Want anything else?" I ask as I walk toward him, the glass now in my hand.

He turns, grinning. "Nah, I’m good. Let’s just sit down and… see where this goes."

I hand him the drink, watching as he takes it without a second thought. Drink it, Jake. Drink it all. He does, like he’s thirsty for more, like he’s starving for something he doesn’t understand.

I lean against the counter, watching him as he sips the glass, feeling a strange calm wash over me. It’s not satisfaction. It’s not revenge. It’s just… peace. The kind of peace you get when you finally make the world fit the way you’ve always wanted it to.

His face slowly shifts, his eyes blinking harder, like he’s trying to focus on something. "You okay?" I ask, my voice sweet.

He rubs his temples, squinting at the light. "Yeah, I think I just need to sit down for a minute."

I nod, my lips curling into a tight smile as I follow him to the couch. "You’ll be fine. Just relax."

Jake slumped onto the cushions, his body slurring with every movement. His eyes begin to glaze over, his words slurring into unintelligible mumbles. He’s losing control, slipping further into the fog I’ve set in motion. It’s exactly what I wanted. It's exactly what I needed.

I move toward the window and take in the view, watching the lights and speeding cars from the street. I don’t know why I’m doing this. I’m not sure I care. I don’t even know if I want to explain it, even if someone asked me why I let it get this far. Why did I let him get me here?

All I know is that I’ve waited long enough. Waited for Rafe to come back to me and for us to start over and try again.

Jake is still on the couch, barely conscious now, his head tilted back, his breathing shallow.

It’s done. The final step, the final release. No more waiting. No more yearning.

I turn and look at him one last time, my breath steady, my heart calm.

"Sleep tight," I whisper. "It’s over."

I walk into the kitchen, grab a glass of water, and take a sip, like this is just another night. Just another chapter of my story.

And tomorrow, I’ll be a little further from the girl I used to be.

A little closer to the one I’m becoming.